You, and Only You
by fallouise
Summary: "Oh," Kaga said lamely. 'I wish you were closer', she thought vainly. / Lately, Kaga is distracted by thoughts that start with Akagi and end nowhere. Falling in love is a two-way street, and sometimes, friends are what Kaga needs to turn her in the right direction. (akaga, kaga/kongou friendship, canon compliant, one-shot)


The thought of kissing Akagi had crossed Kaga's mind before.

At first, she felt embarrassed and to a point ashamed, but she'd come to accept that these thoughts were unavoidable. Romantic notions and close partnership walked the same thin line. To her, Akagi was her partner. If her life were to end to the artillery of an Abyssal, she could at least take comfort in that Akagi will be with her to the very end.

Wanting to kiss her, then, was a natural progression of their closeness.

They were both getting dressed in preparation for a long day when these scattered thoughts flitted around. _What if I kissed her now?_ rose a stubborn, fruitless idea as Kaga watched Akagi to the side of her. The other woman looped her uniform sash under her shoulder, a kind of gracefulness to her movement from years of habit. In the same fluid motion, she brought the sash over her other shoulder, catching her hair with her fingers and combing it to one side. It was then that Akagi caught Kaga's stare, smiling with her eyes when she did. Kaga blinked in response, before offering a small smile of her own.

How easy it would be, her mind insisted, to step forward and kiss her.

She really must stop entertaining these thoughts. They led to nowhere, and squandered efforts were an annoyance to Kaga.

"Need any help?" Akagi was already tying the knot and adjusting her chest plate.

Kaga straightened her back, rushing herself as she followed after Akagi's example. She wasn't one to slack, yet here she was, getting wrapped up in trivial thoughts. It was normal, yes, but to hinder her? That was where she drew the line. "Just a moment—" she began, but Akagi was already drawing nearer, her eyes still smiling too brightly. Kaga's mouth ran dry, unable to finish her sentence.

"I asked because I wanted to do it, silly," Akagi joked, her fingers undoing her measly knot rather easily.

"Oh," she said lamely. _I wish you were closer_ , she thought vainly.

Standing stock still as Akagi circled her arms around her body, Kaga's mind harped of unwanted needs and unvoiced thoughts. When Akagi's hand stroked her back, it was warm and soft and the touch she expected Akagi to have. It would be so terribly, wonderfully easy to lean up towards Akagi and kiss her.

Yet she didn't, not even as Akagi said she had finished or when she laid her head on Kaga's shoulder. Their arms wrapped around each other without word. Kaga felt the weight of Akagi against her, and for all these unnecessary feelings, Kaga knew that above all she would have Akagi beside her. There were no if's or but's to consider. Kaga squeezed Akagi in her arms and felt the smile into her shoulder.

"Is First CarDiv Kaga-san ready for today?" Akagi's hands were at Kaga's elbows and pushing her away, as if she were forcing herself to detach from the hug.

That was the case at least for Kaga. She never did like being the first to step away. "Only if First CarDiv Akagi-san is," she replied.

They smiled at each other, completely privy in their own little world. In an alternate universe, she could imagine the end of their morning prep ending with a kiss. Kaga could easily imagine how late they'd be for morning assignments.

But they were the first ones there, as always.

…

" _HEY_! Kaga, there you are!"

It was Kongou. No one could be that loud and in English except for Kongou. Kaga turned to find the brunette pointing at her defiantly. She found herself rolling her eyes in exasperation as Kongou strode over to her. "Good to see you back from your sortie," Kaga said unceremoniously, returning her attention to the equipment. The admiral had suggested that while she was restocking she ought to see if she could upgrade any of her equipment, and she found no reason to object.

To think that Kongou would go out of her way to find her, though, did pique her interest. Kaga glanced at Kongou, who leaned on a stack of crates with a cheeky grin. Nothing she said could be worth that smirk. "No."

"Come _ooonn_ , you spoilsport," Kongou pouted. "You don't know it yet, but you and I have a reservation at Mamiya's tonight, you hear?" She took on a self-congratulatory tone, rubbing her nose and failing to appear humble as she continued. "Tonight, we trade in black tea for some alcohol. The weather's _perfect_ for catching up, friend!"

Her grin was blinding.

Kaga squinted. "I'm sure you must be tired."

"Never too tired to get drunk with an old friend," Kongou shrugged nonchalantly, looking anywhere but at Kaga. She spoke in a tone different from her earlier remarks. Something a little more somber, a little less flamboyant. A beat of silence passed as Kaga rolled the underlying message over and under in her head. She paused to measure Kongou up, but the other woman had now turned her head away.

Kaga hadn't planned on drinking tonight, but when Kongou dropped her act like this... She felt words bubble at her throat—were they of comfort? To reassure her that Kaga did care? —before Kongou whipped around and declared loudly, "And anyway, look at yourself! How could you let the admiral see you when you're all tense like that? You need this too." Just like that, Kongou was back to being unnecessarily loud.

Kaga sighed, resigned to her fate. In any case, growing up with Kongou had never been a straightforward road. "Fine. Let me finish here, then we can go."

Kongou pumped a fist, complete with a little hop in victory. " _YES_! That's what I wanted to hear." Both knew that more often than not Kongou would get her way of things, but Kaga supposed that this was her friend's own charm. She didn't know when she had become so lenient around others. Akagi came to mind.

She drilled her eyes to the array of miniature airplanes before her. No matter how much Kaga focused, however, she already knew that she wouldn't make her choice tonight. Though she loathed to admit it, Kongou was right. Loosening up would be good for her.

Pretending as if she were making last minute assessments, Kaga turned toward Kongou. "Mamiya's?"

Kongou gave a thumbs-up. "Mamiya's."

…

A key fact that Kongou had forgotten to mention was that they wouldn't be the only two sitting at the bar. Had Kongou told her about this key fact, Kaga might've considered staying to fruitlessly stare at planes, but Kongou had not, so Kaga now stood at the entrance as Zuikaku stared back. "I'll see myself out," Kaga began, turning on her heel.

Zuikaku sputtered at that. She stood up from the stool to yell after Kaga. "Are you really leaving just because I'm here?!" Shoukaku, who sat next to her, led Zuikaku to sit back down.

Kongou pulled Kaga's arm back. "Aww, c'monnn. Don't let your junior keep you from this."

A mental list was growing in Kaga's mind. On one hand, Kongou wanted company, and Kaga needed to blow some steam off. On the other? Over her shoulder, she could still hear Zuikaku grumbling about her. Not that she particularly hated Zuikaku, but she did not have the vigor tonight to bark brashly at one another.

An arm swung itself over Kaga's shoulders, and she found Kongou herding themselves back into Mamiya's. She extended a peace sign into Zuikaku's face, who recoiled at that. " _Peace treaty_ , ladies! Tonight, we drink."

Shoukaku raised her glass. "Cheers, then. Won't Akagi-san be joining us as well?"

She was most likely seeing the night sorties out or informing the admiral of today's report. It wasn't out of reason that she could be speaking with Nagato of the next large-scale objective as well. Though Akagi liked to appear that she had things under control, she had to work long days and invest a lot of time to consistently perform as she had. Kaga knew all of this, yet she opted for a simple "Perhaps next time," because she knew that Akagi would not want others to feel obligated to sympathy.

The image of Akagi bearing the weight of responsibility on her shoulders rushed to the forefront of her mind. Brushing off Kongou's arm that was still around her, Kaga called to Mamiya as she sat at the bar a few seats away from Shoukaku. "I'll have the usual sake."

Kongou took the stool next to hers. "Add a whiskey to that!"

Mamiya waved to them nonchalantly as she opened the alcohol case.

That should have been the end of that. Ideally, Kaga and Kongou would drink in peace and wander off to the docks to talk of mundane things and reminisce of old times past, and ideally, Zuikaku would understand that Kaga didn't have the energy to put up with her tonight. In an ideal night, Kaga would return to her room, sobering up in time to wish Akagi a good sleep.

So of course, shot glasses got involved. Kongou and Zuikaku were the ones to raise theirs first.

And Shoukaku thought it'd be fun to join.

And Kaga was _not_ about to let Zuikaku get the better of her either. Sipping sake at the bar alone while everyone moved to a booth was the worse alternative, so that was where the situation stood. In the dim lighting of late night Mamiya's, Kaga found herself drinking with an old friend and juniors.

" _Cheers_!" Kongou bellowed loudly. They all raised their glasses in unison before downing it.

"Just call it quits, Kaga," Zuikaku mumbled under her breath after a while, attempting to sound angry, but her face was a dead giveaway as it grew pink from the alcohol. It had only been three rounds. Kaga rolled her eyes as Kongou returned with the next round.

"Last round for you, okay, Zuikaku?" Shoukaku cooed softly, giggling as Zuikaku tried explaining in mismatched sentences how she absolutely had to outdo her senior. The older sister motioned to Kaga. "Sorry for this. When you're around, she can't help but go a bit overboard."

"Shoukaku-nee, don't tellher that!" Zuikaku cupped a hand over Shoukaku's mouth, and they both laughed at their own antics. They collapsed against each other, Zuikaku poking gleefully at Shoukaku in revenge. It was a completely normal exchange for two people who openly depended on each other, yet it brought about a sense of melancholy to Kaga. She looked down at her empty shot glass, the sounds of their laughter seeming to echo around the cup.

Kongou elbowed Kaga in the side. She tilted her head forward so that she could peer upward to Kaga's lowered face. "Don't get too lonely without Akagi now. That's a giant _no-no_ for a girl's night out."

"Why'd you ask to go drinking tonight, Kongou?" Kaga countered, watching intently as Kongou's expression fell, briefly, for just a moment. Kongou worked day and night to become the person she was. To be the type of person that her sisters and the rest of the naval base placed on a pedestal, Kongou met those expectations then exceeded them.

She was a lot stronger than the mounted guns she sported in battle. But Kaga had come to understand that Kongou was just as scared as any of them.

The woman withdrew from Kaga's personal space at her question. The silence was telling enough, and even Zuikaku quieted down.

Taking one of the glasses from the center, Kongou downed it in one go. One by one, Kaga, Shoukaku, and Zuikaku did the same. It just seemed like the thing to do. "My fleet almost didn't return today," Kongou began, accentuating the end of it with an awkward laugh. It came off more as a shaky breath.

"Mm." Kaga rolled the glass around in her palm.

"Those girls put their lives on the line. I can't control what happens out there, but when I see how young these kids are," Kongou clenched her fists on the table. Shoukaku moved to rest a hand on Kongou's and they smiled briefly at each other. "they look up to me, yet I can only do so much. I'm only one person."

Kaga kept her hands to herself. She wasn't sure what to say in this situation. The girls were born into this world understanding the cost. They understood the high price they must pay to be allowed existence. They all did.

She worried her bottom lip under her teeth. It didn't make it any easier to swallow.

Perhaps it was the alcohol in her system, but Kaga could easily imagine a giant chasm opening before them. Impossibly massive in scale, the crevice seemed to swallow up everything and anything. Nothing could fill the hole, or wrench it shut. The unadulterated feeling of helplessness toward their situation—that was what Kongou was getting at. She was only one person. No matter how much she wanted to carry the world on her shoulders or take on everyone's worries and reassure them, it was an impossibility.

A dish of food was placed before them. On the plate was warm karaage and steamy vegetables. All four of them turned their gazes toward Mamiya standing at the head of their table, a mix of confusion and surprise.

Swiping her hands down her apron, Mamiya withdrew chopsticks from her pocket before offering a gentle smile. After distributing the pairs to each person, she spoke, "On the house. Food tastes better when words aren't enough." She bowed her head before returning to the kitchen in the back.

For a moment, they stared at the food, digesting their own thoughts.

Kaga was the first to snap her chopsticks apart, picking up a piece of chicken and offering it to Kongou. "Eh?" Her friend wore a look of disbelief.

She moved her chopsticks closer to Kongou's mouth. She couldn't spell it out any more than she was already trying. "When words aren't enough."

Kaga kept her eyes lowered. She was foolish, fully knowing that she was incapable of offering words of comfort, but the desire to be present for Kongou overcame all else. No matter the circumstance, the woman beside her never hesitated to be a shining beacon for others, including Kaga. She was like Akagi in that sense—much too self-aware and caring for her own good. Perhaps that was why Kaga couldn't leave either of them alone.

When she felt Kongou bite, she raised her gaze to find Kongou smiling. Not boastful or exaggerated. Happy. Kaga decided that her friend looked her best when she was happy. She was barely aware of a smile growing on her own face. "Thanks."

"Don't get used to it," Kaga warned. She could allow this, just once.

Zuikaku yelled, "What about Akagi?!" Immediately after, "Shit, I didn't mean to say that aloud."

Never mind. Her smile dropped as she glared at Zuikaku. "What about her, Fifth CarDiv?"

"I believe," Shoukaku raised a hand to silence Zuikaku. That was probably the smartest move on both their parts. "what she meant was that you and Akagi-san are very close. It's easy to assume there's more to your relationship."

Kongou shrugged as she picked up a veggie, though she seemed to like where the conversation had taken. Clearly, she was more than happy to focus on someone else after her earlier admission. "They're always together. That's what matters, right?"

Zuikaku grinned audaciously, leaning forward as if she were in on a conspiracy. "The renown First CarDiv, sharing a room together… No one dares get near Akagi lest they wish for Kaga's wrath." Shoukaku slapped her sister's shoulder playfully. "I'm serious! Not even I'm that protective about you, Shoukaku-nee."

Kongou tilted her head, mischievous eyes watching Kaga. "What do you have to say to that?"

For once, Kaga didn't have anything to say in response to Zuikaku. And it pained her to say that, because for every retaliation she tried to conjure, she imagined how it would reflect on her relationship on Akagi. _It's not what you think_ was too condemning, _you've got the wrong idea_ when Zuikaku hit rather close. The thoughts of kissing Akagi, of wanting to be kissed, surfaced again.

"Hm," Kaga opted for a non-response.

Zuikaku blanched at that. Shoukaku shared eye contact with her sister. Kongou simply widened her eyes in surprise. Kaga breathed through her mouth, ready for her junior to make a dig.

"This is too good," Zuikaku adjusted herself as she rested her arms on the table. The smuggest look on her face irritated the hell out of Kaga. It wasn't lightweight Zuikaku, or spoilsport Kaga that would be the deciding factor of who was the better of the two tonight. It was apparently Akagi. "Is this why you're here tonight? Did something happen between you two?"

"Nothing happened," Kaga snarked. "Quit assuming someone else's personal life. It hardly comes off as endearing."

"So she _did_ come because of Akagi," Zuikaku continued, looking at Shoukaku. Her sister seemed to be silently taking in their exchange. She pointed at Kaga, who glared at her directness. "I can't believe the prodigious and knowledgeable Kaga-shaaan, experienced in all things of the world, can't even tell when she's in love!"

" _Aaah_ , you said it, Zuikaku!" Kongou held her face in her hands, swaying back and forth as she covered her smile.

"No!" Kaga lunged for Kongou and wrestled her into a choke hold, her friend yelling while the other two laughed. Her face must surely be warm because of the alcohol. Or embarrassment, she might admit, but for all the wrong reasons that they're all assuming. The more she thought on it, however, the less sure she became. She loosened her grip and Kongou slipped out. "It couldn't possibly be that."

"What makes you say that?" Kongou questioned.

Was it hard to realize why? Kaga looked squarely at Zuikaku, daring her to speak so arrogantly once again. It seemed as if Zuikaku would take her up on the challenge, until she relented, darting her gaze to the wall. At that, Kaga spoke meekly, "I can't dare ask more of her when I already see how hard she works."

Somehow, her answer felt wrong, even though it was what she believed was right. The silence that she was met with mingled with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. She wasn't sure from whom.

Zuikaku clicked her tongue, a stern expression on her face. "I didn't take you to think so low of yourself."

"Zuikaku," Shoukaku warned. Her voice was oddly harsh, yet it softened as she directed herself to Kaga. Her face relaxed and she wore a kind smile as she spoke in the same calm tone that the Fifth CarDiv carrier usually held for her sister to Kaga, "I hope that this isn't stepping out of bounds. But next time you feel that way, consider Akagi-san's side of things. You might realize something for yourself there."

Was that not what Kaga had been doing this entire time?

She nodded without much conviction, looking at the collection of shot glasses that had accumulated on their table. Kaga suddenly felt extremely tired, like the end of an adrenaline rush. Every muscle reminded her of how late it had become. The conversation died out as Zuikaku yawned and Shoukaku left to speak with Mamiya. Kongou gathered Kaga by the shoulders and forced each other to stand up. "Put it on our tabs, Mamiya-san," Kongou called, and they wandered outside.

When they were far enough away and the night had grown quiet once more, Kaga detached herself from Kongou. "I didn't mean to bring her up tonight," she admitted.

"She means a lot to the both of us. Especially you," Kongou acquiesced. The woman took a few steps forward, kicking a pebble so that it skipped ahead of her. "so she was bound to come up. And look! Your juniors really are looking out for you."

Kaga grimaced, keeping pace with Kongou. "Zuikaku is too stubborn for her own good."

"I could say the same for you," Kongou jabbed at Kaga. She merely rolled her eyes. They walked in silence as they made their way to the carrier dorms. No more words needed to be shared, since their fair share of talking had happened at Mamiya's. Upon arriving, Kaga went for a halfhearted one-arm hug, while Kongou threw her arms around Kaga's head. "I did miss you a lot, you know."

Muffled by the embrace, Kaga could only think to say, "Yeah."

"As long as you know," Kongou pulled back, winking for good measure. They said their goodnights and goodbye's, and Kaga waited until she rounded the corner before heading inside.

She entered their room quietly, noticing the lump huddled under the bedsheets. Kaga prepared for bed quickly. Their futon—Akagi—called to her, and her muscles ached and her mind was fuzzy. Sleep sounded like bliss that she very much needed. Gently sliding the door to their room shut, Kaga lifted the blanket and slid in.

Warmth enveloped Kaga, inside and out.

It reminded her of Akagi. No one else but her.

Without thinking, Kaga found herself wrapping her arms around Akagi from behind. Spooning her so closely now, she leaned her forehead on the dip between Akagi's shoulders. To always have her back, to always be watching her from behind—Kaga could only reach so close. The margin of difference was just large enough that they could never fully connect.

She never did return home in time before Akagi went to sleep. The reality didn't quite line up with her ideal night, but she would make do.

 _Goodnight, Akagi-san_ , was her last thought before dozing off.

…

Their morning was much like any of their mornings.

Kaga wouldn't have expected anything else, since nothing had changed. They woke up before dawn, freshening up at separate paces with little to no talk, until they reconvened together as they put on their uniforms.

"You were out late last night," Akagi observed in a neutral voice. Her back was to Kaga, so she could not tell what expression the other woman wore.

She treaded the conversation carefully. There was no need for Akagi to learn of any of the matters discussed last night, particularly anything that Zuikaku said. Kaga tied her hair up as she began, "Kongou had returned, and it would've been more annoying to decline her any more than I did." That was good enough.

Akagi hummed.

Then she twisted herself so that she was leaning into Kaga, her face awfully, terribly, horrifically close to her own. "A-Akagi-san?!" Her voice was a little too high pitched for her taste, none of her usual composure to be found. Kaga took a step back, coughing into a fist. Composure, yes. She was the calm, collected individual between the two of them. Her stare fixated away and to the side, Kaga corrected Akagi, "You shouldn't step so close so suddenly."

"You always did like your sake," Akagi teased. At that, Kaga immediately covered her mouth and smelled her breath. Huh. She might have to steal some mint from the admiral's desk later. Akagi returned her attention to her uniform soon after. Kaga did the same. "Though you don't usually drink with others."

"Kongou has a way of getting what she wants," Kaga muttered.

Akagi laughed, small and childlike. Too many memories must be flashing through her mind, Kaga concluded, because it was the same for her. "She'll have to tell me her secret sometime," Akagi joked as she drew her uniform together.

It was a throwaway comment if anything, but it stuck to Kaga, stubborn and obstinate. She tried to dismiss it like flicking water off her fingers, but it held on like glue. Shoukaku's words at the end of last night resurfaced. Consider Akagi's feelings. What a surface-level assumption, to assume that Kaga had not already done so. She might've thought too much on Akagi at this point. How could she not?

Adjusting her own uniform, Kaga watched as Akagi fixed their futon.

It wouldn't hurt to ask.

The least that could happen was to prove Shoukaku wrong.

"Mm. Akagi-san," Kaga kneeled on the floor while Akagi gathered their bed. She was greeted with a smile, and the tension in her stomach unraveled at that. What was there to worry about, when she knew how Akagi felt, and Akagi her? Akagi placed the folded futon in-between them, sitting on her knees as well, to the opposite of Kaga. Her throat felt unusually constricted as she found herself saying, "If it doesn't bother you, may I ask what you think of me as? It came up in conversation last night, and it would be easier to hear from you directly."

"What I think of you as…" Akagi repeated, her hands folded at her lap. Kaga nodded once. Tilting her head to the side, she maintained eye contact with Kaga. There seemed to be a wordless exchange that should be happening, yet she was not understanding. "I wonder how this came up."

"I shouldn't need to explain further than Zuikaku being involved."

Akagi stifled a chuckle. "I'm not actually interested in that right now."

In Kaga's mind, the scene played like this: she would ask what Akagi meant by that, Akagi would explain, then proceed to say that their relationship as it currently stood was just fine. Then she'd be able to tell Shoukaku, Kongou, and most importantly, Zuikaku, that they had it all wrong. Their everyday lives would continue as per usual, only that Kaga was proven correct.

She wasn't sure, then, why Akagi never responded, or why Akagi leaned forward. A hand gripped her shoulder lightly by the fingers, while the other hand came to spoon the back of her neck. Her cold palm caused Kaga to become increasingly aware of how warm she felt. The expression on Akagi's face was indecipherable. It made Kaga's heartrate pick up.

A tempting thought crossed her mind. _What if she kissed you right now?_

The hand behind her neck tugged her closer, and Kaga gasped as she felt Akagi's lips on hers. Akagi recovered the gasp by following Kaga even as she recoiled a bit, catching her once again. It was gentle with no real pressure, but she closed her eyes, taking in how Akagi felt with her hands and lips on her.

It was the kiss that Kaga had been imagining, but it was that and more. Akagi was real—in front of her and keeping her grounded, acting as an anchor to keep her near. The reality was that she clenched her hands on her lap, apprehensive of how to react. She'd known Akagi all her life and stood as her companion throughout a majority of it, yet she had no clue how to act as her partner in this type of scenario.

The kiss was over just as it'd begun, and Kaga's eyes fluttered open to find that Akagi had only pulled away a few inches. Her first thought was that their faces were too close. Warm breath puffed against Kaga's cheeks. But it was Akagi's brown eyes that held her attention; this close, Kaga could finally read her expression. She wanted to do this. She wanted to kiss Kaga.

The realization made Kaga's heart tremble.

It felt like water threatening to spill.

"You," Akagi whispered. Her voice was small, deeper and closer than Kaga was used to. "I think of only you. That's my answer."

Kaga sat there, mouth still ajar, even as Akagi stood up. A hand brushed her shoulder, then Akagi was slipping on her sandals and leaving for morning duties.

Needless to say, Kaga was late for morning assignments.

…

"Oh _._ My _. God_. Oh my God?"

Kaga felt her face burn under the scrutiny of the Kongou, who had nearly dropped the several buckets that she'd been carrying. They were on their way to the docks to deliver the supplies, then the dock fairies would handle the rest. Neither Kaga nor Kongou were entirely worried about fairies or buckets right now, however.

"You did?" Kongou asked as she balanced the buckets once again.

"She did."

"She actually did?"

Kaga grimaced at her friend, but her face still felt warm. She supposed if she had to choose someone to talk about what had happened, it would be Kongou. For all her loudness, she had a way with people, and that was something that Kaga needed. Tightening her grip around the buckets, Kaga continued walking. "Yes, as I've said, she kissed me before leaving for her meeting with the admiral."

Kongou chuckled behind the buckets she carried. "Our admiral always has the worst timing, doesn't he?"

She merely hummed. She never understood Kongou's fascination with the man, but at least she wasn't pressuring Kaga to tell her everything immediately.

They passed by the docks to find several girls under maintenance. Some recuperated in the allotted tubs, while others were laid on surgical tables farther in the back. Kaga and Kongou left the buckets near the entrance. There was nothing to say, other than it was an inevitable fact of life as a Fleet Girl.

When they neared the pier, Kongou rounded on Kaga. "Did you like it?"

Kaga short-circuited at that. She crossed her arms and gave Kongou a hard look, trying to see if her friend was pulling her leg. "Isn't that a little too straightforward, even for you?"

Kongou raised her hands defensively. "Sometimes it really is as simple as that!"

So she said, yet as Kaga looked into herself, she found a jumble of emotions that played with her heart. It felt as if she were stumbling through a mirror maze, each reflection of herself a skewed reality, an unnecessary want, an intangible fear. Faced with herself, Kaga was at a loss.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, focusing on the question at hand. "I liked it."

She realized that Kongou had continued walking without her. The woman turned around to face Kaga, wearing an encouraging smile as wind blew her hair around and about. The day was overcast with clouds, and the ocean and wind seemed to compete with the weather. Tumultuous movement seemed to surround them. She raised her voice above the windy sea, "What's stopping you then?"

The wind bit at her face, and Kaga held up a hand to shield herself. "You know why. A relationship is the last thing she needs."

Then everything seemed to slow to a halt as Kongou laughed. The wind and water were captivated by the sound, calming down so that it was no longer piercing Kaga's uniform. In the sudden absence of the swirling wind, her skin intimately met the warmth that replaced it. Kongou still smiled. Something about it almost came off as pity. "Kaga, even I can tell that even if she doesn't need a relationship, she wants one. With you. There's only one person stopping you."

Kaga dropped her hand to her side.

It was right in front of her this whole time, yet she refused to believe any of it. She refused to believe herself. Really, the fact that Akagi continued to put up with her was a miracle in and of itself. Kaga scoffed at herself, but it sounded more like a laugh. Kongou joined with her.

Did she always love Akagi this much?

"First things first," Kongou said as she came near. " _Wedding plans_ , Kaga. We have to start immediately."

Kaga punched her without any force behind it. "Shut up."

…

Admitting that she was wrong burned Kaga much more than she wanted. Admitting that Zuikaku had hit the mark, that Shoukaku was right, and that Kongou may know more than Kaga in this area? It was near impossible, but with many things she'd been admitting lately, it had to be done.

To say that she loved Akagi? It was the most natural, easiest thing to accept.

Those were the thoughts that were flitting around her mind as she entered their room that afternoon, to find that Akagi was already back. She stood at the window, watching the sunset over the ocean, but she turned when Kaga entered. It was the same as any other afternoon, but it was completely new. Slipping off her sandals, Kaga felt like she was stepping into a new room altogether.

"Welcome back," Akagi greeted, her kind eyes always, always watching Kaga. Her silhouette was outlined by the setting sun, and she was alit. Kaga found the afternoon fitting for Akagi.

Kaga lingered near the entrance of their room. "How was your day?" Her heart was beating, and she was aware of how warm the room felt. The distance between Akagi and herself was so small, and crossing it meant many things. She acted as she would normally, seating herself at the low table.

"You know how the admiral is," Akagi surmised, sitting adjacent to Kaga at the table. She looked up slowly until their gazes connected, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Kaga watched her lips as she spoke, "he's a little slow, but I've learned to be patient."

Clever. _Now_ Kaga was beginning to understand this language. Angling herself so she was nearer to Akagi, she cleared her throat. "I understand that was a dig at me, but I don't want to talk about the admiral right now," Kaga started as she reached a hand out and found Akagi's. Their interlaced fingers were warm, and the grip was secure. Everything about Akagi grounded her. The more she realized this, the more Kaga wanted to move closer. "I am not the best at expressing myself, though, so you may need to be patient with me a while longer."

Akagi's expression melted at that, and she leaned so that their foreheads were touching. "Sorry it took me so long," Kaga whispered as she squeezed their handhold, Akagi matching her grip.

"I love this side of you too."

She closed her eyes and followed Akagi's lead, experiencing the same feeling of breathlessness as before as they kissed one another again. Kaga brought her hands up to cup Akagi by her cheeks, almost fearful of mishandling her.

Kaga was experiencing too much of everything, like the way Akagi sighed into the kiss, before shuffling closer, and closer, and closer. Or the jolt she felt as Akagi's hands ran up her sides, or how Akagi pushed slowly, deceptively, so that Kaga found herself lying on the floor. They only broke apart so that Akagi could crawl over Kaga, trapping her with her hands resting on either side of her head.

Akagi was breathing heavier now as she looked down at Kaga. Her long hair moved with her breath, tickling Kaga's face. "Is this clear enough, Kaga-san?" She asked, a mischievous smile toying on her lips.

"Some clarification would be helpful," Kaga played along. Her breath hitched as Akagi bent down to kiss her by the collarbone.

"How about this?"

"Not quite," Kaga murmured, feeling as Akagi traced a path from her collarbone to her neck, where she planted more kisses. She was moving so slowly and Kaga wasn't sure she had as much restraint as Akagi had. "I've heard being direct does wonders."

Akagi breathed in and out, hot air blowing on Kaga's neck, and she prayed to God, wondering why she didn't realize this sooner. "You're not patient at all, Kaga-san." She could have thought of a reply, but it was whisked away when Akagi placed a thumb on her chin and directed her into a kiss.

It may not be what Kaga had imagined and she may not have realized it right away, but so long as they were getting somewhere and together, they might just be able to work it out.

And that was fine with her too.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Inspiration music is Oster-P's "Ladies First."


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